


Interesting

by Morrigan2345



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23259241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrigan2345/pseuds/Morrigan2345
Summary: She really should have expected this, but Balthus has always been slightly unpredictable.
Relationships: Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	Interesting

**Author's Note:**

> The summary is not a great one, this is just Balthus thirst that I had to get out of my system before I wrote a Claude/Hilda thing.
> 
> There is explicit sex.
> 
> As the kids say, a himbo is present.
> 
> Any spelling or grammar mistakes are mine!

“Y’know,” a voice by her ear says, she doesn’t turn but it continues nonetheless, “I’ve noticed some things, now that I’m back at the Monastery and all.”

“Have you?” she says, she indicates to the lady in front of her what she’ll have to order today. There’s mashed potatoes and ever since Manuela told her this morning that they’ll be on the menu she’s been thinking of nothing else.

She might, if she was the type to, call herself a bad professor but she hasn’t had any potatoes this well mashed since- ever. She’ll try to make it up to her class by inviting them to eat with her, four extra students means she’ll need to grab some chairs from one of their rooms but it’s doable.

Speaking of extra students, it seems she’s being called on despite the mashed carbs in front of her.

Bad professor her ass.

“I sure have, pal- professor.” He says, and she almost tells him to call her whatever he finds comfortable but then she sees the steam from her neglected potatoes and holds her tongue, “Do you want to know what the Observant King of Grappling has- ah, observed?” he finishes strong, she’ll give him that.

The little piece of butter the kitchen staff have placed on the slopped hill of mashed potatoes has sunk down to pool with the broccoli, “Tell me.” she says but starts walking towards her usual table.

Really, she wasn’t planning on dining with Balthus today seeing as though both Linhardt and Lorenz wanted to speak with her but he follows her, when he sits down next to her (legs spread unnecessarily wide) she sees both previously mentioned students steer clear from them. She holds in a sigh as Balthus quickly scarfs down a piece of bread and she adds a tick to the bad professor column as she doesn’t discourage him from scaring off everyone else in the dinning hall.

She starts to eat and she can’t tell if it’s because of the potatoes, the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt even though that jacket must be chafing, or that he seems to be slightly nervous about something that prompts her to ask, “Balthus,” and she refuses to think about why her fingers tighten around her fork when he turns to her with his mouth stuffed with food, “you were saying.”

She doesn’t watch him swallow his food but she assumes he does, “Well, there’s been a couple of new changes that caught my eye since coming back here. You being the most interesting.”

She tries not to let her brows crease, “That’s what you’ve observed, that I’m interesting?” Surly that can’t be it, unless she’s gotten the assessment of his character completely wrong.

Fortunately, he starts to shake his head, she does not let her eyes stray to the little curl above his eye, “Well, you _are_ interesting- but that isn’t what I wanted to let you in on!” She’s about to encourage him to continue but pauses as his eyes flutter quickly around her face, she knows it’s some sort of nervous tell but it’s still surprising since she’s never seen it on his face before. 

“Balthus, what-“

“We should grab a drink.” He says quickly, and winces as though in some sort of pain, “Hm, I’m usually more- ah…” he trails off, which is another thing she’s never seen him do. Usually his opinions are expressed fully formed, given with the full force of his personality behind it.

She isn’t an idiot though.

“Tactful?” she supplies, allowing a small curl of her lip to push through, not a smile but she doesn’t really think a friendly smile is what he’s after.

It’s not really what she’s after either.

His eyes flash down to the left side of her face where the curl slowly starts to fade, he gives what sounds like a disbelieving laugh at her interjection, “Heh, not really, if I’m being honest. Usually, when talking to a lady about getting drinks I’m more up front.”

She shoves more mashed potatoes in her mouth before she lets another curl slip past, he doesn’t seem concerned with her poor table manners as she says, “Up front?” with a mouth full of food.

If anything, his usual smile gets a little bit wider, “Yeah, intentions and all that. I’ve been told I get straight to the point when it comes to-“

“School grounds.” She reminds him but it falls a little flat since they seem to be one of the few people left in the dinning hall at the moment.

She watches him shrug his shoulders, “You don’t think your little runts are fuckin’?” he asks, and ah- there’s that bluntness.

It’s her turn to shrug her shoulders, innocently, “It’s not my concern what my students seem to be doing in their leisure time. As long as they show up to class and work I’ll be satisfied.”

He lets out another laugh, a little sharply but he lessens the blow by shoving his untouched mashed potatoes towards her, “You keep telling yourself that and we’ll both pretend you don’t have a little piece of paper in your desk that looks oddly like some sort of matchmaking sheet. It’s a weird and convoluted system you set up but, I gotta say, you really do keep track of your student’s progress. I also think I’m probably gonna have to update Holst sooner rather than later if your system is accurate but you see where I’m going with this, right?” She watches as his hand drifts closer to her wrist.

“What I see,” she says moving her wrist, instead using the hand that’s attached to pick up her fork and scooping up the offered mashed potatoes, “is someone getting off track.” She says, neither confirming or denying the existence of such a paper, though it wasn’t ever really a secret in the first place.

She does have to entertain herself somehow.

Well, her options of entertainment seem to be broadening at least.

“Off track. Right,” Balthus says, nodding his head, she assumes his eyes would find hers, but they start looking around, “ah, the kitchen lady left.”

She blinks, what- “Why is that important, right now?” she tacks on, the kitchen lady is her second favourite person on the grounds.

He frowns like it’s obvious, “A box, for the potatoes.” He says indicating to said mashed goodness, and really-

If there wasn’t a chance that her father would somehow walk into the dinning hall right then and there she would have gotten on her knees already.

 _He’s so stupid,_ she desperately thinks to herself, hand already reaching out to pull at his, “You’re so stupid.” She says and drags him out of the hall, pulling him towards her room, ignoring his sputtering.

“He-y, that’s a little uncalled for!” he says, but he doesn’t sound too put out. Actually, he sounds-

She pins him to a stone wall, the air is slightly too cold tonight but when she presses against him the heat of his torso warms up her entire front, “Alright, not stupid. Sweet,” she says, pulling him slightly down but ghosting over his neck with her lips, “thoughtful, even. Is that better?”

She feels him huff, and finally his hands go to sweep down her sides, he’s entirely too large she thinks absently, “You know I told you I won’t say no to praise.” His voice doesn’t tremble like she wanted but he does sigh nicely when she starts kissing up his neck towards his jaw.

She detaches briefly to look back up to him, his eyes are heated but he looks carefree in a way that differs from his usual rough and tumble self, “Please don’t bring up class when I have my mouth on you.” She asks and his usual sharp grin answers her plea.

“Sure thing, professor.” He digs.

She doesn’t groan or roll her eyes but something in her expression must be telling because the sharpness melts into something more jovial, he squeezes her sides in a surprisingly gentle manner before straightening up, “I don’t have any stuff with me, all in Abyss.” He supplies in an unsure manner, she bites her lip.

Usually she wouldn’t mind something quick and surface level, but she touches the hard muscle just above his low waist ban and _wants_.

“The door to my room is unlocked-“

“Yeah, I _know_.”

“-go wait in there, I’ll get everything.” She continues undeterred because, really, no normal person would break into her room but that’s probably why she’s going to sleep with him.

It’s his turn to blink, “Ah, that isn’t very nice of me is it?” he says and she purses her lips, giving him a look that has him putting his hands up, “Hey, if you want to do all the work I’m not gonna be the one complaining.”

She nods and steps back but not before saying, “Not all the work.” She sees him grin again, but quickly turns towards Manuela’s quarters before she can get distracted.

The other professor literally chortles when she knocks on her door, “My, my, professor- Yours was the last face I expected to see at my door tonight.”

She thinks about a man on her bed and gets straight to the point, “I need stuff.” She says, indicating Manuela’s own bed with a finger.

“Truly,” Manuela says, dramatically, “the Goddess has cursed me, to have such a beautiful woman such as yourself at my door in the dead of night only for her to slip out of my grasp towards another.” But she drifts back into her room with a flutter of her expensive looking night gown. When she comes back her hands are full, Manuela offers her something green and gestures for her to open her mouth.

A strong scent of herbal freshness dusts over her senses, Manuela nods and places the other more familiar objects in her hands, “A little bit of freshness never hurt,” she says brightly and indicates for her to spit in a waste bin by their feet, “but that’s besides the point! I expect full payment in the form of gossip, I hope you realize professor.” Manuela says, but there’s a mirth in her eyes that reminds her of why she’s so close to the other woman in the first place.

On her way back, she quickly side steps into the communal washrooms closest to her room, Manuela had said freshness and she vividly remembers the scent of rose that was clinging to Balthus’ neck as she kissed him.

She thinks he probably borrowed the soap from Constance but the gesture still stands.

When she gets back to her room she quickly slips in, locking the door behind her and dropping the stuff by her bed side table. She turns to find out that underneath Balthus her bed looks hilariously small and that he’s managed to procure, apparently for the second time, her little list.

“What I did not expect,” he says, eyes scanning the page in front of him, “was the blue girl with-“

“I _know_.” She says suddenly making him burst out laughing at how empathetic she sounded, she can’t help but let her mouth twitch at the sight. She kneels on her mattress, her clothed knees knocking into his exposed sides- she spies his jacket thrown over he desk chair but quickly moves her attention to the piece of paper. 

She takes it out of his hands and places it carelessly (well not _carelessly_ , hours of work and observation will not be lost simply because there’s a man in her bed) onto her side table, “Should I be insulted that you seem to find your peers love lives more interesting than your own even when I’m in the equation?” she asks, as close to teasingly as she can.

He seems to like her sad attempts at flirting because he tugs at her hand until she’s got both knees comfortably locked around his waist, “No, just find your dedication nice- in a creepy sort of way.”

Letting the creepy comment go for now she presses his hands to the beginnings of her bindings by her hip, she likes the feel of his fingers slipping under the tight cloth, “I could show you dedication, if you’d like.” She says and is already unwrapping her shirt bindings.

The last of the black fabric slips away and he asks, “You tie those up ever day?” but he says it in such a distracted way she doesn’t comment on the fact that he hasn’t touched her bare chest yet.

“Yes.” She says and only slightly increases the pressure at his side with her knees to remind him to use his hands.

Said hands are warm and she’s thankful since her skin is cool to the touch, he slides his palms down from her shoulders to the tops of her thighs and she thinks it’s the first time she’s ever heard him this quiet. It’s strange that as he quiets her own usual silent breathing starts to come out more harshly, she would have assumed he’d be loud and abrasive but he seems wholly intent on her. Not really chasing any particular reaction but getting them nonetheless.

She tugs at his arm as his hand travels down her sides for the fifth time, “You- you need to get over here.” She huffs.

Instead of replying like he normally would with a quip his hands tighten around her midsection, in a second she’s being prompted to scoot down his legs in order for him to lean up. In this new position she can feel his length and, well-

“Huh.” She says and she probably has something of a concerned expression on her face because he snorts.

“Gonna have to burst your bubble there, but that’s something of a misrepresentation.” She feels herself being shifted even further down the length of his body until her back hits her covers, her legs spread as she leans on her forearms and watches him shuffle until his pants come off.

She almost becomes more interested in what she’ seeing instead of what’s actually behind the shelled looking object in front of her, her finger’s trace the top of it on their own accord and he huffs out a laugh, “Been hit one too many times where it counts, finally found this when a merchant got lost in Abyss and helped the geezer out. This,” he says, tapping his knuckles on the hard surface of the shell almost playfully, “was my reward. Kinda makes you think about what wares that old guy was selling but he disappeared before I could check it out.”

With the explanation and relief of not having to deal with some sort of monster out of the way, he unceremoniously unclips the cinched waist band of her shorts and pulls them down. He’s not particularly rough or gentle, instead he’s methodical in a way that is incredibly enticing to her. There’s no pause as her tights follow her shorts onto the floor but he stops to come kneel closer to her before he removes her underwear.

He’s half hovering over her and obscuring her vision, she can’t see his hands but she feels fingers outline the edge of the fabric. Swallowing thickly, she feels her stomach contract in anticipation, it seems to spur him on enough to raise her legs slightly and pull at her underwear. 

Instead of spreading her legs once more like she assumed he would he puts her pressed legs over his shoulders and bends over her body the rest of the way. His hands come to rest by the sides of her head and all she can do is stare at his face, lips slightly parted due to the sudden pressure on her bare self.

He nods as though he’s seen something confirming in her expression, “Yeah, I’ll- I’m gonna…” he says, more to himself than her, and before she can ask what exactly that means his face is moving away from her and she feels her legs being lowered.

She can’t help but let out a light sigh from her mouth as she feels his hands start to run up the length of her newly exposed legs. She tilts her head back and closes her eyes, the surprise of his thumb running up her entrance to her clit isn’t so much shocking as it is welcoming. She feels him shift and almost laughs as she watches him lean back to sit more comfortably, one leg hanging off the edge and the other bent partially under her lower back. Her own left leg is resting at a low angle in the crux of his elbow who’s hand is just resting on her hip, the other leg is curled around him in a half embrace that’s just loose enough that the mobility of his hand that’s currently (wonderfully) preoccupied isn’t too straining.

As she gets swept up into the rhythm of his fingers teasing the edges of her entrance she starts to realize that her previous state was entirely too tightly wound. As she feels his finger finally enter her, the width of it pleasing in a way that hers usually have a hard time achieving, her back relaxes onto the bed and she lets all of the sensations overwhelm her senses. 

This relaxed state is welcomed eagerly by her but she get’s the distinct notion that Balthus also seems to notice as her body seems to melt towards him, “Hell,” he mutters, she thinks that maybe he has no filter at all when he’s doing this, “never thought I’d…” again he mumbles something indiscernible but she’s having a hard time concentrating on anything that isn’t the second finger he’s adding to stretch her out with.

The lazy leg that’s wrapped around his hips tightens with each thrust of his fingers, she’s not necessarily one to beg but she lets out something that sounds suspiciously like a quiet whine, “You need to hurry up.” She tells him honestly and he really is full of surprises today as he continues to pump his fingers into her, making her stomach ripple and hips lift off of the bed trying to get him to move deeper despite her own words.

When she cracks open an eye she sees him staring at her, when their eyes meet he bends the knee that’s resting over his elbow up towards her own waist. As he moves her his finger’s keep up their rhythm without faltering, before she can blink his hip is pressed against the back of her now outstretched leg that’s perched on his shoulder once again and his face is the closest it’s been to hers tonight.

She bites the inside of her cheek to keep a moan in check but he bends her even more to wrap a hand loosely around her tensed jaw, unintentionally angling his finger’s deeper.

She closes her eyes as he rests his forehead against hers, she can feel the puff of air he lets out and tilts her head upward with his hand, “I will,” he promises, “but I think I wanna do this first.”

With that he squeezes her cheeks very slightly, not enough to pry her mouth open but her lips purse, and presses his own mouth to hers. She’s never been kissed like this, she can only move her lips a little as he continues to press down against her because of the hand that’s around her jaw. Really, it’s still lax enough for her to open her mouth if she wanted to but the feeling of his urging pressure to tilt her lips in a certain direction to meet his own is extremely well received in the more deeper reassesses of her mind.

Though, as nice as the kissing thing is, she doesn’t miss how he adds a third finger into her or how he steadily starts to increase the speed and roughness of his thrusts. She let’s out a curse as the pressure builds inside of her, usually when it’s her own hand she slows at certain times but Balthus’ movement are almost never ending though he pauses at her quiet exclamation.

“Do you want to come like this?” he asks, and really the practical tone of voice shouldn’t be as alluring as it is.

She nods her head and just as quickly as he stopped he resumes his attentions, both with his fingers and with his mouth pressing kisses along her slackened lips, he murmurs between a press of his lips to hers, “Can I still…?” he trails off, and she really shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that his attention can be so evenly split between attending to her and asking whatever he’s asking. 

Which, it takes a second to understand because he _really_ is attending to her, but her eyes open again and she nods silently as much as she can with his grip still around her face.

He doesn’t seem surprised but he gives her a little grin before tilting her head to the side and attaching his mouth to the side of her neck, “Thanks.” He mumbles but she can still feel his upturned lips pressing against her pulse point.

After that it’s just a matter of time and persistence on his part, she usually takes a while to even get turned on enough for things to start moving along but he seems to bypass all of that with precise and quick movements. It still takes a couple of minutes of steady thrusting for her to finally dig her nails into his forearm, her hips buck away from him but he adeptly chases her to her climax which she feels is a never ending burst of pleasure as he keeps rocking into her. 

She has to put a hand around his wrist with a huff to slow him which he responds to with a slightly amused chuckle, “Sorry, that was just a real sight, y’know.” Though he doesn’t sound at all apologetic she doesn’t have the time to reprimand him because he starts to tug at the shell he’s had on this entire time. 

Regardless of his previous words she can tell his length will still cause a bit of strain but nothing she’s not managed before, he turns to her side table and preps himself as she watches lazily, “Huh, where’d you even get all of this?” he asks, and before he finishes up he reaches for a pillow, slipping it under her.

She shrugs, “Manuela.” She says simply and he pauses in stroking himself, which if he wasn’t currently making a face like he just swallowed a lemon she’d find the sight entirely too funny.

“Manuela?” he asks with a little frown (hand still around his dick which a part of her is _still_ trying not to laugh at.)

She nods, a little peeved that he had to sound that incredulous, “Yeah, usually _I’m_ not-“ whatever she was about to say gets stopped as he waves his hand between them and continues to attend to his own self.

“Yeah, yeah, next time…” he says distractedly, quickly looking down at her before rolling his eyes at the grin he finds on her face.

He hums as he shuffles onto his knees once more, slotting himself between her still loose thighs and rubbing up and down her entrance unintentionally teasingly. She’s fully stated from just the one climax but she still feels the anticipation as he makes eye contact with her before slowly slipping into her.

As she had thought before, the stretch is a still a weird pressure but not unbearable, she won’t come again but the image of her slightly limp as he fucks into her is something she’ll revisit when she’s alone.

His hands come to rest by her shoulders, instead of looking at her she sees him focus on the slow drag of his length inside of her as he thrusts back and forth. It’s her time to lean up and start to kiss any part of him she can reach, his clavicles to chest and then to the bottom of his throat. 

She likes the sigh he let’s out as he increases the speed of his motions, the act is fluid thanks to whatever Manuela had given her that he had added just before. His hand tangles slightly in her hair and his eyes crane back to her as he tugs just the slightest amount, his other hand grasps her wrist that’s been clutching his shoulder as he fucks her and presses it back to the bed. Her head turns and kisses his wrist lightly before closing her eyes and trying to feel every inch of him.

When she hears him start to breathe louder, she angles her hips enough for him to fully burry himself into her. At that his own strides become erratic as he thrusts back into her a handful of times before he stills completely, a harsh exhale escapes him, “Fuck.” He says eloquently and she rubs his arm with her suddenly freed hand as he cradles her face.

He kisses her, deeply now that she has full control of her own mouth, and pulls out. He gets off of the bed with a groan and walks over to the waste bin in the corner of her room. She stretches and wiggles until she gets partially under the covers, she ignores the sound of him rustling with his pants as he tugs them on to instead snuggle her head into the pillow she’s pulled from under her.

She doesn’t fall asleep yet, she hears his heavy footsteps until he’s by her side and pulling the rest of the covers over her, “You want anything?” he asks and smooths down her hair.

“Mmh, water.” She says, sleepily.

She dozes until she hears her door unlock again and hears the thud of a glass on her side table, without much prompting or opening her eyes she scoots closer into the bed until she feels the hard line of his body press against her back. His hands are still cold from the water but his chest warms her up immediately, making her almost sigh contentedly.

Instead, she presses back and she feels more than hears the responding laugh, “Good?” he asks, almost too quietly.

She hums, “Next time don’t forget the stuff.” She says, but even she can hear the teasing lilt to her voice.

He makes a disgruntled sound, “Yeah, maybe next time I’ll remember to bring it if _someone_ tells me about-“

This time she reaches back to hit him on the shoulder, the impact is lessened due to the fact that she’s tired, “Go to sleep, Balthus.”

He huffs, still a funny but endearing sound on him, “Sure, sure, fuck me and forget me- I get it.”

“I don’t think anyone could forget you.” She states, it’s the truth but, again- she’s pretty tired, so she can’t be responsible for her words right now.

She feels him relax his hold on her and she can tell he’s about to fall asleep but not before he mutters, “Damn right.”

**Author's Note:**

> It was all a ruse!!
> 
> They've been dating for a little bit and someone wanted to try something new!! 
> 
> Or read it however you want, I'm not picky
> 
> Thanks for reading by the way, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
